


Gency Week: December 2018

by FumeKnightofShovelry



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gency Week, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-21 09:49:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17041475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FumeKnightofShovelry/pseuds/FumeKnightofShovelry
Summary: Gency Week is upon us! Here are seven chapters of fluffy, cute Genji/Mercy goodness.





	1. Chocolates

**Author's Note:**

> Art to come, courtesy of the fantastic, phenomenal, talented North Wind! You can find him here: https://northwindart.tumblr.com/.
> 
> All non-English was done through Google Translate, so anyone who speaks German or Japanese should feel free to correct me!

“Angela.”

Angela Ziegler looked up from the article she was reading. She’d been so intrigued by a particular piece on physical therapy trials for spinal reconstruction patients that she’d taken the liberty of printing it out to peruse at her leisure. Evidently it was engrossing enough that she hadn’t even heard Genji Shimada approach. Smiling up at her husband, who had retracted his green-lit visor to reveal his brown eyes, Angela pushed the stack of paper pages to the side of her desk and scooted her chair back. She’d been getting ready to leave for the evening when she’d gotten distracted by her reading, and had already shed her white coat for a dark-red knitted sweater that would better protect her from the biting cold of winter.

“Genji! I must say, I was not expecting you to visit today!” She stood up and made to move around the right side of her mahogany desk towards the doorway that he stood in front of. “You are fortunate that I was just about to head home, _mein liebe_. I was planning to give you a call, but this is much better.” Moving around the right front corner of her desk, she reached forward and placed her hand on his mask, thumb brushing the metal above where she knew his chin was.

Genji brought a hand up to rest on the back of Angela’s head, running his fingers through his wife’s hair. The shafts of the setting sun shining through her windows blanketed her office in a warm, buttery yellow, giving Angela’s blond hair a sharp golden glow. “I simply could not wait until tonight to see you again, Angela. I hope you will forgive the intrusion.”

“Don’t be silly, Genji.” She beamed at him, corners of her eyes creasing with a happiness that matched her grin. “You are my husband. And a husband visiting his wife at work is a very sweet thing indeed.” Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against Genji’s, hearing his breath hissing underneath his mask and hers whistling through his nostrils against the metal covering his face. She adored how they’d developed a unique form of mouthless kissing for the times when Genji wished to keep his mask on. It was no less intimate for the lack of bodily contact. “In fact, I have something for you.”

“Me first.” Genji teased, and it was only now that she noticed that his left hand was hiding something behind his back. “Angela, I have some chocolates for you. I know White Day has long passed, but in the spirit of _sanbai gaeshi_ , I wanted to give you a little extra. Here.” He moved his hand forward and pressed a box against Angela, who looked down and squealed.

“ _Schokolade! Danke_ , Genji!” She grasped the red square with one hand, the other pressing against the metal covering his mouth with the back of the other: their equivalent of a quick peck. “Ah! Swiss! They’re the best!”

She couldn’t see his mouth, but Angela knew her husband had to be grinning beneath his mask. “Have I finally atoned for my mistaken purchase of inferior, non-Swiss chocolates, Angela?” Placing the box on the patient chair in front of her desk, Angela threw her arms around her husband, pressing her cheek against his mask. “Am I yet forgiven?”

“Genji, please. You know you don’t have to feel bad about that. I was merely teasing you.”

“As was I, as was I. But I still wanted to get you something special.”

“Thank you, Genji.” She planted a kiss on the front of his faceplate and lovingly met his gaze. If she’d been wearing lipstick, it would have stained his mask, and it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d walked through the front office with evidence of his wife’s kiss on his faceplate for all to see. The reception staff had long ago started a betting pool on whether or not he was going to walk out with lipstick marks or not. “What brand are they? Lindt? Läderach?”

“Ah,” Genji began, slightly flustered. He stroked the side of her face to return her kiss in his own way, then stepped back and towards the door. “No, something different. A little more…exclusive. Please do not be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Why would I be…” Angela turned to the desk and her sentence trailed off. The name on the top of the light-brown container was far from the ones she might have expected. “ _Delafée_?! Genji…”

“I wanted to treat, you, Angela.” Genji reached out and held her hands in his.

“Genji, these chocolates are made with gold flakes. They come with gold coins minted almost a century-and-a-half ago, of the _Swiss Vreneli Francs_ , the 10-series.” Even as she said it, Angela realized that her surprise was making her sound ungrateful, and so she softened her tone. “I appreciate this, Genji. Thank you. But I hope you know that you don’t have to pamper me with such things to demonstrate your love for me, or to reassure yourself that I still love you.”

Genji leaned forward, raising their hands so that they were each looking at the wedding ring on the other’s right hand. Genji and Angela had cooperated with Athena, Brigitte Lindholm and her father, Torbjörn, to have Genji’s ring installed onto his right ring finger. Genji actually had two different, interchangeable modular right ring fingers: the one he had on right now, with his diamond wedding ring, and another with a simpler gold band if he anticipated combat or travel. Given that his entire right arm was cybernetic, having a replaceable finger was a comparatively simple feat.

“Angela, that was never my intention. I could never forget that you love me, and I would never doubt my own love for you to the extent that I would resort to something as simple as material goods to reaffirm it. But this really was no trouble for me.” Angela nodded and rubbed her cheek against their shared grasp. She truly couldn’t overstate how happy she was that she and Genji were in love and together.

“Thank you, Genji.”

“Now, I believe you had something for me as well? Or is it at home?”

“Oh, no, I have it here. I meant to bring it home with me today, but you have cut out the middleman.” Pecking him on the back of his hand, Angela released herself from his fingers and rummaged through the drawers of her desk. Before long, her search yielded a heart-shaped box of her own, this one a deep, almost neon red. “This seems redundant, but I also got you some Swiss chocolates, Genji. As you’ve already demonstrated, they’re the best!”

“ _Torbjörones_?” Genji let out a chuckle as he accepted the box from his wife, enjoying the exaggerated pout in her lip.

“Be nice, Genji. I don’t condone with Torbjörn’s contributions to the field of weapons research, but he is a good man and has helped us both on more than one occasion. Remember how much we enjoyed Ingrid’s apple pie when we last visited them?”

“I joke, worry not. Thank you, Angela. Perhaps you could share them with me?”

“One step ahead of you, _liebling_.” She’d already placed the box on the counter and undone the ribbon encircling it, holding it closed. Inside was an arrangement of heart-shaped chocolates. They were identical in flavoring and texture, but she hovered her finger from one to the next in mock indecision before settling on one and plucking it up. Looking back at Genji, she fluttered her eyelashes in an exaggeratedly coquettish manner and bit her lip before gently grasping the confection in her teeth. Turning herself fully towards him, Angela leaned forward, chocolate in mouth, as if to feed it to him, moving her hand to his right cheek.

Of course, he still had his mask on, so when she thoughtlessly continued moving her neck forward, the chocolate smudged against his mask, leaving a mark against the metal and prompting a giggle from them both. The confection fell out of her mouth, but Genji caught it before it hit her carpet, his hand snapping down to snatch it out of the air.

“Getting a little ahead of yourself, are you, Angela? Allow me.” Popping his mask off with two fingers, Genji mimicked her earlier action, fastening the sweet between his teeth. As their lips approached to share a kiss and a taste of Swiss chocolate, neither could contain the warmth blossoming up in their chests. They really _were_ the happiest couple in the world.


	2. Snow

It was the dead of winter, and while snowfall was usually an inconvenience, Genji Shimada and Angela Ziegler were having a blast with the weather’s mercurial snow patterns. The two of them were making the best of last night’s frozen deposit, standing in the front yard of their home and making snowmen.

Angela was trussed up in light cold-weather clothing, an orange beanie holding her hair down towards the black scarf wrapped loosely around her neck and upper shoulders. The back of her windbreaker pants, her boots, and the covers of her wrist were the same orange as her hat, in contrast to her black-colored waistband off-white of the front of her pants and her shimmering coat. Dark gray gloves were currently molding the face of a squat, pear-shaped snowman, raising the top of the snowball forming the head into the silhouette of hair in a tight, elevated bun. The center of the snowman had a haphazard belt-buckle at the bottom, and an elevated frozen collar at the top, evoking the image of a tightly-wrapped heavy jacket or coat. A pair of cheap glasses were balanced on a small protrusion of snow that formed a nose, with two burned-wood disks forming eyes behind the lenses.

“I should take a picture of this for Mei. She’d like this, correct?” Angela chewed the front of her scarf and added a bit more snow to what was supposed to be the bun of Mei’s hair. “It is a  very  stunning likeness, if I do say so myself. Although I will be the first to admit that she is the superior ice sculptor and snow artist, I believe I have done quite well here. What do you think?”

“Why? She’s already right there, isn’t she?” Genji waved at the snow-Mei. “Greetings, Doctor Zhou! It’s good to see you again!”

Angela giggled and threw a piece of Mei’s hair-bun at Genji, who ducked it before it was even all the way out of her hand. The makeshift snowball sailed out into the white expanse around them and became part of the landscape. She’d have to repair Mei’s hair.

“I see the cold hasn’t frozen your sense of humor, _liebling_. I apologize, Mei, for damaging your hair. Give me a moment to reconstruct it.”

Genji, for his part, was putting the finishing touches on a snowman of his own. The snow belt-buckle and pancho gave away its identity, to say nothing of the cowboy hat, pine shaving beard, coal eyes, and carrot cigar. “Just a little bit here for the scarf, and…” Angela’s husband wasn’t dressed as warmly as she was, but his suit kept him warm when he was cold and cool when he was hot, so he could make do with less. A heavy brown synthetic polyester coat with a hood covered his top, and he wore a pair of similarly-crafted black pants with winter boots that insulated his feet from the frigid snow. “Done! Jesse, I suppose it will ‘just be like old times’, as you would say.”

Angela was impressed. It was certainly a caricature, but a cute one: Genji had successfully recreated McCree in a diminutive form. The pine-shaving beard gave the snowman a frowning expression, which was accurate enough: McCree  hated  the cold. He’d never had to deal with it growing up in the southwestern United States, and that carried over to his work in Overwatch.

“‘Who’s got the hot hand?’ Not you, McCree.” Genji pantomimed fanning the hammer of a nonexistent six-shot, and Angela giggled into her scarf. She’d finished fixing up Snow-mei’s hair, and now just needed to carve in Mei’s signature smile with her gloves. A moment’s work, and it was done.

Angela stepped away from her snowman and walked towards Genji, who was still pretending to fire shots into the snow with a finger-gun. Between exaggerated hand movements and a roll into white, fluffy frost, he playacted well enough. But he was still unmistakably Genji, his movements sleeker and more sinuous than McCree’s meaty-but-ponderous steps.

“All right, Genji. Calm yourself. Would you like to go inside and warm up?” Genji snapped back to look at her, and before she could react he tossed a dusting of snowflakes into her face. They were so light as to be harmless, but they still sent Angela reeling backward in surprise.

“Watch out, Angela! He’s stunned you with his flashbang! Quickly, get behind me!” Swinging forward into a lunge, Genji leapt forward and planted himself between his wife and the snow-cree, posing as if he had his sword in hand and was preparing to deflect a shot.

Angela laughed uproariously as Genji circled the snowman suspiciously, clapping in encouragement. With how much activity they looked to be getting outdoors, going inside to warm up might not be necessary. And her husband certainly seemed to be having fun.


	3. Mistletoe

Overwatch, as an organization, did not exactly hold a unified “winter holiday festival”. Not only was the organization made up of a diverse group of people from a wide variety of regions and religions, some of whom did not celebrate December holidays (or, in the case of the residents of the Southern Hemisphere, didn’t even _have_ winter in December), but the widespread structure didn’t make a single gala or party feasible. Add in the around-the-clock nature of most of the organization’s work, and all the ingredients were in place for a half-assed “holiday celebration” where a variety of icons, from Christmas trees to menorahs to Kwanzaa Kinaras and Shinto _Kadomatsu_ decorated the hallways, front doors, walls, floors and ceilings in Overwatch bases around the world.

Genji Shimada, in particular, did not care for these added distractions. He still practiced the Shinto New Year traditions, but as an acting member of Blackwatch he didn’t have the time or reputation to spend on elaborate celebrations. His black-and-red circuitry and exposed chest gave off an aura of brutality that he was happy to exploit to be left alone in his search for solitude and places to focus his rage and frustration. By fermenting these powerful, violent impulses inside himself, he was able to intensify his energy whenever he was next needed in combat. It didn’t make him the best person to be around, but he didn’t care.

Only a few people had been able to get him to relax a bit around them. His fellow Blackwatch agents, for one, especially McCree. Tracer, on occasion, especially when they were finished sparring. He respected Captain Ana Amari, thanks to her maternal concern for her subordinates matching the severity she drilled them with. Winston, thanks to his to-the-point speaking pattern that minimized wasted time. And the medic, Angela Ziegler, also known as “Mercy”. She had been instrumental in saving his life, but that was long ago and no longer informed any part of their dynamic. Outside of that she had treated Genji with patience, respect, and empathy. He did not open up fully to any of them, but he was definitely able to loosen up around some of his fellows.

Which is why he was caught so off-guard when he stumbled into Angela standing stock-still in a doorway in the organization’s Swiss headquarters. Genji was leaving the training ground after slicing up a training dummy on McCree and Ana’s recommendation, and had been looking absentmindedly at the walls when he’d walked into the combat medic. Frowning, he looked up at her, opening his mouth to ask her what was wrong, when he followed her gaze upwards. 

Ah. That explained it. Some prankster had set up mistletoe above the doorway leading from the training room: a childish custom whereby any two people who stood underneath it had to kiss. And seeing as he had been the only person in the room for the last hour and that this hallway led nowhere else, and it hadn’t been there when he’d entered…someone was trying to prank him. And Angela as well.

 Well, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Genji would have shoved his way past the person blocking the doorway if it hadn’t been Angela. He was wrathful and capable of great violence, but he wasn’t going to take that out on her. “Ziegler. I understand that this is awkward, but perhaps we can just ignore this and move on with our lives? I’m willing to pretend that this did not happen if you are.”

Angela was horrified. The last thing she remembered was Lena asking her to meet her in the training room to “take a look at a funky lil’ thing the accel’rator does when I use it a buncha times”. She should have been suspicious that Lena was asking for _her_ help rather than Winston’s, but when she went to Winston, he’d given her the a-OK to talk to Lena. When she’d found the mistletoe, she’d planned on turning around and walking away, but then she’d heard someone approaching and waited to see who it was. The fact that Genji was the one who had rounded the corner froze her feet to the ground, but she didn’t know why. She could only stare up at the offending plant in shock until Genji spoke to her.

 The medic averted her eyes. What could be the harm? It was a little bit of fun, after all, to play along with the holiday customs.

 “…Ziegler? Are you well?”

 Without thinking, she grabbed Genji by the shoulders and mashed her face into his faceplate. Her lips met the cold metal covering his face, but she swore she could hear his lips pressing against the metal separating them. Genji’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t push her away, even as his breathing got heavier beneath his mask and he found himself returning her kiss as best he could against the barrier between them. Mercy’s eyes closed as she deepened the pseudo-kiss, her fingers running over his biceps, on his pectorals, along the back of his neck as he found himself holding her by the small of her back. What was going on?

A hissing sound interrupted them and he realized, with some embarrassment, that he was venting heat, his body reaching a critical temperature as his face grew hot: pore-like openings in his right shoulder unlocked and let loose a blast of cool steam. The sound was enough to break them out of the reverie, and they both pulled away from each other simultaneously. Mercy’s face was beet-red and she was breathing heavily, and he knew he was in the same situation.

 Mercy’s head felt hot and she was slightly dizzy with the surge of emotion that had gone over her. “I…am not sure where that came from.”

 “Nor do I.” Angela decided not to point out that Genji now had a bright red lipstick mark where his mouth was beneath his faceplate. “That was…”

 “Sorry, Genji, I…” He raised a hand.

“That was nice, Ziegler. I…” Genji trailed off, and the two of them stood in an awkward silence, faces hot, cheeks red, chests heaving as they regained their senses. Genji tried not to notice how Angela’s rising and falling chest made her breasts sway slightly, cooped up as they were beneath her tight combat suit.

 “…”

 “…”

 “…I’ll see you around, Genji?”

 “…Yes.” Genji replied, still dumbfounded, as Angela paused for a moment before turning around and walking away. He waited until she’d turned the corner before he started after her. Why did he only now just notice how widely her hips swayed when she walked, how much her pants hugged her thighs, how tightly the back of her suit clung to the outline of her rear?

He needed a break. And a shower. And perhaps some time alone with the memories of what he’d just seen and experienced, and then another shower after that.

Angela, meanwhile, was trying hard not to hop-skip like a schoolgirl down the hallways of her employer’s organization. She had to be professional. But that _had_ been some of the most fun she’d had in a long time. She needed a bath. And a bit of time to think about how Genji’s muscles felt underneath her fingers. And then another bath.

* * *

As the video feed showed Genji and Angela taking different exits from the hallway leading from the training room, chuckles rang out from the observers.

 “Well, I’ll be. That went better than expected. And I know what that awkward lil’ gait means for Genji: last time I saw ‘im move like that, he’d been reminiscing ‘bout the time he got the Prime Minister of Japan’s daughter in bed with him…’longside Miss Korea an’ the heiress to some South African renewable energy megacorp.” McCree nodded sagely, as if this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. “Tracer, I believe ye owe me. Pay up.”

 Tracer pouted, but forked over a stack of bills to the American gunslinger. “S’not fair, y’know. I _said_ they’d snog, for sure, just not that they’d get handsy. No gropin’, even!” The winnowy, flighty operative crossed her arms and frowned.

 “Ahaha! S’yer loss, Tracer. My boy’s got it. Speakin’ o which…hold up.” McCree flipped through the paper, then glared at Tracer. “This’s worthless British pounds! What’re ye doin’, givin’ me currency that’s not worth th’ paper it’s printed on?” Tracer stuck her tongue out at McCree, then laughed again.

 “Sorry, McCree! S’not my fault we’re in Switzerland. Next time yer in the UK, I’m sure you’ll have a doozy of a time…’less you wanna exchange it for francs here for seventy percent of the value, of course!”

 “Cut the chatter, you two.” Captain Amari spoke sharply, wagging a finger at McCree and Tracer, but couldn’t disguise the glee in her voice or the twitch of her tattooed eye that gave away her mirth. “We all did great. Winston, good job on the camera placement. Tracer, well done setting up the mistletoe. McCree, fine work convincing him to work out. I think we’ve given the lovebirds _plenty_ to think about. Maybe keep the cameras off them next time they’re alone together, hm?”

 “Actually, captain, I’m fairly certain that it’ll be quite a bit longer before…” Winston cut himself off when Ana glared at him, nervously drumming his toes on the floor of his Swiss laboratory. “Uh, nevermind. I’m glad that this turned out well, and my camera caught it all. Should we delete the footage?”

 Ana tapped her chin, then shook her head. “No, keep it. Not for nefarious purposes, mind you. But it’ll be fun one day, I’m sure. I can imagine Genji and Angela as an adorable and _very_ saucy couple. Those two need to unwind with each other.”

 McCree’s eyes danced between Winston and Tracer, and he mouthed the words _Grandma really wants grandkids, huh?_ Tracer guffawed, then covered her mouth, while Winston just looked confused.

 “Nothing so crass, Jesse.” He gulped and scooted away from Captain Amari, who winked in his direction.

 “Well, if’n that’s all, I’ll be headin’ to the mess. I’m thinkin’ Genji will want some time alone.”

 “Not without me, cowboy! Race ya to dinner!”

 Tracer gave McCree a whole minute’s head start before leaving herself, but Ana and Winston knew it wouldn’t matter. She’d be there in a few seconds.

 “So…matchmaking success?” Winston eyed the camera feed, considering when he next might be able to discreetly remove the bug he’d planted in the hallway.

 Ana patted Winston on the shoulder and nodded, replaying in her head the passionate kiss that Genji and Angela had shared. “Matchmaking success.”


	4. Angel

“That one looks like the LumériCo pyramid.” Angela gestured towards a crop of snow that had piled up alongside the park bench she and Genji were walking by. The heavier snowfall had passed, leaving a light and steady whirlwind of flakes that melted as soon as they touched a solid surface.

Earlier in their walk, the two had had fun goofing around and playing in the snow, tossing snowballs at each other and plodding through the knee-deep white expanse as they chased each other. Now, though, they had settled down, content to huddle together and walk through the park alongside each other, marveling at how the cold season shifted familiar elements into new and exciting spectacles.

“I’m not so certain, Angela. It certainly has half the look of the power plant, but only the half that’s spread across the bench. The other portion seems…rather collapsed.” Genji shrugged his shoulders and kept walking, Angela looping her arm through the hole his made against his side and sighing.

“I suppose you’re right. Do you see any other familiar shapes?” She tilted her head back and forth, trying to spot something unusual among the steadily expanding layer of frost all around them. Genji shook his head, then paused and stood still. Raising his free hand, he pointed to a pile of snow a few feet off of the path they were walking on, jabbing the air with his extended index finger.

“That one, over there. Look, Angela.” She followed his direction, but didn’t see anything unusual.

“Where, Genji? I don’t see what you are talking about.”

"Here,” he started, wading into the snow piling up on the walkway ahead of Angela, taking heavy, laborious steps through the white drifts and guiding Angela behind him. Stopping not three yards off the path, he pointed to an indeterminately-shaped pile of snow at their feet. “Doesn’t that look a little like you?”

Angela rolled her eyes and poked her husband’s shoulder, though she knew he wouldn’t feel anything through his thick coat. “Genji, that doesn’t resemble me in the slightest.”

"What about now?” His hands flew towards her, grasping his wife’s bicep as he bore her down to the ground. With a startled yelp, Angela fell into the snow pile on her side, the cold sting in cheeks turning into pinpricks of frost as she face-planted into the snow. Genji was laughing uproariously, and even though she was going to be absolutely soaked, she couldn’t stop herself from joining him.

"Genji! Really?”

“Well, it certainly looks like you now, Angela.” He lay on his side as well, looking at Angela as the side of her face reddened from the frost. Angela seemed to be taking it in stride as she rolled onto her back and started windmilling her arms and legs into the layer of snow below her.

"And now?” She teased, the lilt in her voice rising as she restrained her laughter. He already had a good idea what she was doing.

"An angel. So, still like you?” He grinned, tracing patterns in the snow in front of him. Angela rolled her eyes, but the smile didn’t leave her face.

"Flatterer.”

“You know it.”

“Come here, you.” It was her turn to surprise him. Reaching out with her right hand, Angela grabbed Genji by the collar of his coat and pulled him atop her, smudging the outline of the snow angel in the process as he was shifted above her. Her breath misted in the cold air and formed condensation on his visor, and she knew it had to be blocking his vision. Genji, for his part, didn’t care. As he looked down at the love of his life through misted eyes, Genji joined her laughter and amorously batted at her forearms with outstretched fingers. She really was his angel.


	5. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter today. Sorry!

“The young ones are sleeping, and Torbjörn is getting ready to turn in for the evening as well.” Ingrid Lindholm smiled and held a finger to her lips, her face careworn and sagging with exhaustion but still radiantly happy. “You really exhausted them with your play, ‘Uncle Genji.’ Many thanks to you and Angela for visiting us this Christmas.”

“It was our pleasure, Ingrid.” Genji had removed his visor and was wearing indoor clothing over his suit, disguising all of his mechanical body parts except his hands, feet, and the back of his head. He and Angela were sprawled lengthwise across the couch front of the crackling fireplace, watching the embers dance and the shadows flicker as they shared in the heat. Angela herself was dozing, eyelids drooping as she lay her head on Genji’s shoulder, the sound of the two speakers seeming foggy and distant to her ears as the colors around her started to dull. She was so utterly, perfectly content that her body was giving up all hope of activity, willingly resigning itself to sleep.

“I think that Angela is exhausted as well, Genji. I’ll leave you two to it, then.” Ingrid whispered, turning on her heel with her tiger-striped cat mewling at her heels. Genji mouthed _Thank you_ , but Ingrid was already gone, leaving him alone with Angela.

“Angela?” He started, stroking her hair as she nuzzled against his clavicle. “Are you awake?”

No response. A soft whistling sound came from between his legs: she was out, giving herself over to happiness and exhaustion and complete safety. He couldn’t blame her. His gaze wandered over to the Christmas tree, and then the snowfall outside. They were staying with the Lindholms, but he wasn’t in any rush to wake Angela and moved her to their guest room. He’d be perfectly happy to sit here and fall asleep as well, warmed by the fire and stomach full of Ingrid’s glorious apple pie.

In fact, he decided he’d go ahead and do that, but not before giving Angela a little gift. Bending forward incrementally so as to avoid waking her, he brushed his lips past her hair and gave her cheek the smallest, softest kiss he could muster. She smelled of chocolate and baking bread. Her breath whistled through her teeth and nostrils, but she didn’t otherwise react. Genji leaned back, sighing contentedly, feeling the pleasant heat of drowsiness suffuse throughout his body as his focus faded and he drifted off as well.


	6. Magical

Everything had gone about as well as expected. Although she’d been the first to respond to Winston’s Recall, Tracer had been tied up with problems of her own and hadn’t been able to meet up with the reforming Overwatch right away. Genji, by comparison, had nothing but free time on his hands thanks to his tranquil life in Nepal, and the conflict-riven region Angela had been stationed at to provide medical assistance had recently organized a cease-fire between its parties to initiate negotiations. It might not pan out, but it gave her time to travel.

She didn’t want to join back up with the resurgent Overwatch: she had had enough problems with it back in its glory days, even before the messy business with Blackwatch and the Swiss headquarters attack. But Winston had promised her that for now, they wouldn’t be engaging in any violence, merely trying to reunite the scattered elements of Overwatch’s agents and infrastructure and then go on from there.

Angela still wasn’t convinced that she’d stick with it any further, but she owed it to her colleagues to hear them out. Especially when Genji had been the one to meet her at the Orca landing site. It hadn’t been the first time they’d seen each other since Overwatch fell, but there had certainly been a different kind of energy present when he’d been waiting for her near the Orca: they’d run up and embraced each other, both unsure of what lay ahead but glad that they’d be facing it together alongside their other friends. If they could find them.

Since then, they’d bounced across Europe, grabbing Reinhardt and Brigitte in Germany, dropping them off in Gibraltar before establishing long-distance contact with McCree to ask him if he could locate and retrieve Echo. Now, after picking up Tracer, they had stopped in Sweden. It wasn’t something that Angela was looking forward to. Torbjörn wasn’t a bad man, but she would never be comfortable with his role in weapons development and the backdrop of the Omnic Crisis. 

Now, she approached Genji as he looked out the window of the cockpit of the Orca, arms folded behind his back. Tracer was fiddling with some game on the tablet in the lounge of the passenger bay, distracted and heedless of her fellow passengers. 

“Angela.” Genji spoke before she could, and she remembered how much noise the heels of her Valkyrie suit made on solid ground. Why had she gone for such an impractical design, again? “Is this fair?”

“What do you mean, Genji?” She stepped up next to him, following his gaze as he looked into the starless night sky.

“Is it fair of us to do this? To ask Torbjörn to leave his family and return to a part of his life that he’s long since left behind?” He didn’t turn to face Angela, but his head tilted in her direction, ceding the floor to her. She’d thought about this before, especially once it became clear that she was going to help Overwatch come back, at least for a bit. That didn’t make it any easier to answer Genji, though.

“You know I have my reservations about Overwatch. I always did, always have, and always will. I cannot condone violence and Overwatch was guilty of a great deal of it. In no small part due to Torbjörn’s own creations.” 

“So...you do not agree with Winston? You think that we should just...fade and let the world go on as is? Or that we should go on without Torbjörn?”

“I never said that, Genji. Torbjörn is still a good man. And if he found out that Overwatch was coming back together, do you really believe we could stop him from re-joining it?” Angela let out a small chuckle, then swallowed the rest of her giggle. This wasn’t the time or place for that.

“But he has a family now.”

“And he strikes me as the man who would do  _ anything _ to protect them. If that involved going back to his old work, I can’t see him sitting idle. I hope that the new Overwatch is better than the old, and uses less martial means, but Torbjörn has valuable experience. ” She placed a hand on Genji’s shoulder and sighed. The tension seemed to flow off of them like rain, drifting down their bodies until they were breathing normally once again. Genji stayed silent for a moment longer before turning back to Angela. His visor was active: she couldn’t see his eyes, though she knew him well enough to know that he was looking at hers.

“Family…” He began, placing a hand on the one Angela had on his shoulder. “I have made peace with Hanzo, but still, my family is one I have chosen rather than the one I have been born into. Is Overwatch part of my family? Of yours? Are we reuniting people that should have never been apart, or pulling them away from the new families they already have?” Genji paused. He knew Angela had lost her closest blood relatives at an early age, but she had never really brought that up. Was he forcing old memories to resurface, ones that were better left buried?

“I’m not certain, Genji. You know that not everyone in Overwatch was...close. Or as close as you and I were after you met Zenyatta. But I truly  _ do _ believe some of the people I met and knew through Overwatch were and are family.” Genji nodded. He remembered those years long since passed. 

“I recall. You were, in essence, Lena’s older sister. Jesse’s as well. Dr. Zhou, Torbjörn and Reinhardt whiled away many an hour with you on idle chatter and entertaining stories. And Ana was a mother to  _ all _ of us. Before…” Genji trailed off. Now  _ he _ was the one feeling old memories resurface: a disastrous report on a rescue mission in the twilight of Overwatch; blaming and yelling and hugging and comforting; the noticeable absence of the scent of tea wafting through the mess hall; the half-remembered memorial service, and the tears and goodbyes that followed. Genji snapped back to the present.

“Yes. You and Jesse were inseparable. Reyes treated you both like surly younger brothers, or even sons. And even if we didn’t see eye to eye, I know Morrison was trying his best to hold us together.”

“Perhaps it is poetic that Winston, the one who stood out the most, is now the one reuniting us.”

Angela laughed, before remembering that she hadn’t yet answered Genji’s question. “Indeed. But to answer your question, Genji...yes. I do believe, in fact, that Overwatch was a family, with all the dysfunction that implies. It ended worse than most families do, but we may yet find a way to mend things. And as for us…”

“Us? You mean, you and I?”

“Yes, Genji. You know how much of my family I’ve lost. I don’t really talk about it, but it happened. You left before the worst happened, but the wary mood that followed your departure was certainly prescient of the chaos to come. After Overwatch fell apart, I was...disconsolate. I threw myself back into surgery, then nonprofit and international medical work. I tried to not think about Overwatch, the family that I had found and then lost again.” She took a breath. She’d rarely been so open about herself before, but if she could trust anyone with this vulnerable side of her, it was Genji. “But then, I received a letter, Genji. From Nepal. Your first. Do you remember what you wrote?”

He nodded. That had been one of the most impactful decisions in his life, to re-establish contact with someone who was part of the life he had left behind and he would never forget it. Genji had branched out since then, but the first step he had taken, on Zenyatta’s direction, had been to contact Angela Ziegler. Her mailing address hadn’t been hard to find. “ _ Dear Angela Ziegler. Thank you. _ ”

Angela smiled, but it wasn’t in unadulterated joy. There was a sadness to her eyes, of a time long gone but still relevant. She blinked, holding back tears. “Yes, Genji.  _ Thank you _ . I don’t know what exactly it was about hearing that that helped so much, but you gave me something to look forward to. You helped pull me out of the fog that had fallen over me after Overwatch erupted. To see how much you had changed yourself and found peace. You’re a beautiful letter writer, Genji. I could perfectly picture how you were adjusting, and how far you’d come, and anticipate our reunion.”

Genji was at peace with who he had been, but he still had to hold himself back from wincing at the reminder of how he had behaved during his time at Overwatch. He hadn’t been fond of the person he used to be. “Why are you telling me this, Angela?”

“Because I want to thank you as well. By bringing me up from my low when you did, you connected with us in a way that I’ve cherished ever since.You me asked about family, Genji. I want you to be assured that you are  _ my _ family. Now, and no matter what comes next.”

“Angela, I...I don’t know what to say.I agree, but I don’t know what words to use to tell you how important this is. I don’t think I can properly express how much you, how much  _ this _ , how much  _ us _ means to me.”

“I understand, Genji. You don’t need to say anything. Just be here with me, okay?” 

“Of course.” Genji had barely assented to her request before a light flashed in the corner of his eye. Turning to look out the window of the Orca’s cockpit, he felt his jaw drop“What…?”

A spectrum of color danced across the clear night sky, shimmering in hues of pink, green, yellow and bright blue. Angela’s mouth gaped in surprise. “... _ Aurora borealis _ . The northern lights. How? They’re almost never this far south, even in Sweden…”

“It’s beautiful.” Genji whispered. He wasn’t looking at the aurora, but before he could think about what he’d said he averted his gaze from the way the colors wavered across Angela’s face to watch the display in the sky.

“Yes. It is.” Angela murmured back. She hadn’t been looking at the aurora either, and turned away from watching how the light refracted across his mask to enjoy the solar wind show above her.


	7. Souls

Watchpoint: Gibraltar was demilitarized territory. No Overwatch activity could legally occur there, and whatever Overwatch resources were still onsite were to be either impounded by authorized governments or purchased by vetted private parties. In practice, most governments didn’t have the drive or resources to make use of such technology, and there were enough other abandoned Overwatch bases for any private security firm or rich entrepreneur to plunder that Gibraltar was left comparatively ignored for years. As Genji and Angela had discovered, this had given Winston the opportunity to make use of the base as a residence and the staging ground for his planned Recall of Overwatch. 

So, after following Winston’s direction around the world for a bit, chasing leads and restoring contact, the two of them had found their way back to their old base and were enjoying sunset’s gold and orange colors over the waves of the strait. As they waited for more agents to gather, it occurred to them that now they were  _ really  _ breaking the law. Whatever happened next, they were probably going to be brought before an international court, even if they hadn’t actually hurt anyone.

At least the view was nice.

“It's beautiful here!” Genji broke the silence, sitting cross-legged on a rock at the top of the cliff past Winston’s laboratory and residence, sweeping his right arm forward and back along the line of the horizon. “I could never appreciate it before.” 

Angela followed his gaze, watching the ships ride the waves into and out of the Mediterranean, bound for ports and harbors all over the world. None of them knew the history that was being made in an abandoned complex installed on a cliff overlooking the division between two continents. Would their lives go on, unaffected by what was happening here today and in the future? Angela highly doubted it, but she still knew she was a witness to a period of transition. The space between when a monumental event occurs, and when the rest of the world actually realizes it’s on the precipice of change.

But that was for the future. For now, she could enjoy the sight, sitting in a side-kneel with her left hand resting on her thigh while her right held her up against the stone she shared with Genji.

“It really is, isn’t it?” Angela looked over at Genji, trailing off when she saw him reaching up towards his face. Grasping the release clamps on his mask, he pulled it off with a snap and a hiss, laying the sheet of metal on the rock to his right and turning to Angela. His face was a mess of deep scars and welted burn tissue crisscrossing his lips, cheeks, nose and forehead. A great deal of the skin and even some of the underlying tissue had been damaged beyond repair. He was lucky he still had all his senses, much less full use of his face. But as he smiled, scored lips curling to show is top teeth, Angela couldn’t help but feel her heart flutter in her chest and her cheeks flush. Genji was still incredibly handsome, with all of the chivalric-yet-rogueish charm she’d come to know and love. His unkempt, helmet-squashed hair hung low over his forehead, and she’d almost have chided him for its lack of care if not for the fact that it spent most of its time covered in metal. Above all else, Angela was most drawn to the reality that he was  _ himself _ : Genji Shimada, the sweetest, most genuine person she’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. Her fingers tapped her thigh and the stone nervously as she waited for him to speak.

Genji himself couldn’t believe how happy he was in this simple moment, watching the world go by with Angela Ziegler. The indulgences and family interaction of his carefree youth was fleeting and transitory in comparison to the gravity of his contentment with where he was now, secure in himself and his relationship with the people around him. His serenity after finding Zenyatta, meaningful as it was, still came in second place in his heart to the peace of mind he felt spending time with Angela. He wasn’t sure why he had removed his mask: perhaps he’d wanted to sea air on his face again, blowing his locks and refreshing his cooped-up senses. Perhaps he wanted Angela to see his face again: it hadn’t been the first time she’d seen him after he had undergone the cybernetic adjustments following his departure, but it still felt good to be able to see her unobstructed, and know that she saw him.

“Thank you for being here with me, Angela. The time I’ve spent with you recently has meant so much to me, and returning here now, together…” Genji held her gaze, letting his gratitude come to her through his smile and the twinkle in his eye. 

Angela returned his expression and scooted closer. “The feeling is mutual, Genji. Catching back up with you and understanding where you are in the world, your patience with my own adjustments... your peace of mind has helped me find my own.” The wind picked up, and she leaned closer without thinking. Genji’s eyes widened, but he didn’t move. “I’m not certain what happens next to us, our colleagues, our friends, and our organization, but it’ll be the better for you and I having been part of the way we have.”

Genji felt his cheeks redden, and he knew it wasn’t from the cold wind of the coast. Maybe now was the time for him to ask the question that had been on his mind for weeks, if not longer. “Angela, can you stand for a moment with me? I have something I’d like to discuss.” 

She tilted her head in confusion, but rose, elevating herself with her suit’s wings and landing on her heels with a delicate  _ clack _ . He stood up alongside her.  “Of course, Genji. What is it?”

“I…” No turning back now. He had to press on, to be fair for the both of them. “We are all about to cross a threshold that we cannot go back from. Before that happens, I want to make sure I don’t have any regrets.” Genji paused, licking his lips. He was more nervous than he’d expected. “I have been thinking for some time, Angela. Since our first meeting after Overwatch disbanded, or perhaps even after our first few letters before that, after we began our communication.”

“About what?”

“About…” Genji knew how deeply he had to be blushing. Angela certainly couldn’t be mistaking the color in his cheeks for anything other than embarrassment now. “About us, Angela. About you and I.”

“Us…” Angela pressed her lips together, turning to face Genji head-on, then brought her hand up to cup Genji’s cheek, tracing her fingers along his jaw. “It wasn’t just me, was it?”

“Of course not, Angela.” He interlocked his fingers with hers, bringing their hands up to their chests: his hand brushing against her Valkyrie suit, hers pressing into his metal pectoral. “The lovelorn letters and faraway pining. The endearments, the embraces. The little slips of the pen.” Genji smiled, his lips pressing against her palm as he brought his own fingers up to brush a loose strand of hair out of her face. “I’m surprised it took us this long to say anything. I’ve been trying so hard to work up the courage, but I’m so happy to know that I wasn’t the only one.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“I wasn’t terribly subtle myself, Angela.”

“I don’t...I was so frightened that I was projecting onto you, Genji. I didn’t want to interfere in the peace you had made for yourself. But I’m tired of pretending that something isn’t there. I want honesty. I want what’s real.” The wind pushed the teardrops to the corner of Angela’s eyes, leaving a thin line of liquid across the side of her face towards her temple. “I’d ask you if you agreed, but I think we both know the answer to that.

Genji gently shifted his hand to wipe the line of tears away from Angela’s face, leaving his fingers there to grasp the side of her head near her temple. He let one beautiful, crystal-clear word slip out into the space between them. “Yes.” Genji leaned his head forward, expecting her to open her lips and receive his. Instead, she met him halfway and the two of them came together in a kiss. 

His lips were rough and uneven but still melted into hers with a gentleness that Angela could only describe as reverent, worshipful of the contact and all the meaning it carried. She felt his breath whistle in the space between them and knew that her eyelids were fluttering as she let herself sink deeper into the experience. 

She gave off such an air of softness and grace that Genji was worried that he’d hurt her just by brushing his lips against hers. Instead, she pushed into him, meeting him wherever she could rather than pressuring him away, slipping into the kiss and the connection that they were blossoming together. 

A great many unknowns lay before them. Their world was about to change and they couldn’t be certain of anything but the fact that they’d at least be facing it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was great to finally be able to do a full Gency week! Here's hoping for more next year!


End file.
